Cursed Dress
by BlackLadyCharon
Summary: One shot tied in with Devious Decepticon's More then Meets the Eye. Lilith's point of view on meeting Ratchet, and trying to help.


Author's notes: This is a one shot fic, meant to tie in with the story 'More then Meets the Eye' by Devious Decepticon, written with her permission. You'll need to read her fic to understand what's going on here. Basically, a short exploring my OC introduced into the series, Lilith, and her relationship with the rest of the Transformers and company.

Kalliope the Mewthree: Authoress-Mama doesn't own Transformers either movie or cartoon, they belong to their respective companies, nor does she own Kayla, Kayla belongs to herself and nominally Devious Decepticon. Authoress-Mama is in no way, shape or form making money from this, so don't sue her, please.

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Cursed Dress

By BlackLadyCharon

Lilith honestly didn't know why she kept the dress. It was pretty, true, and green, which she looked good in. But it was cursed. Had to be. Nothing that she went to ever came out right when she wore it. She'd bought it for a friend's sister's wedding. The marriage ended in a green screaming, nasty divorce. She planned to wear it for High School graduation. She got held back a year because of one stinking credit when she'd been told she'd passed. She wore it for a casual date with a guy friend she had a semi crush on. He was getting married next summer. So why had Lilith worn it to the ball?

She was hoping to break whatever curse the bloody thing was carrying.

The evening seemed to be going fine so far. None of the guys had really noticed her, but none of them had done some boorish act like try to grope her either. True, Lilith was being a wallflower, but she had long ago resigned herself to the fact that she didn't fit the current standard of beauty. Her face was too oval, to strong for the current soft featured looks, her coloration suited dark shades rather than boldly bright or softly pastel, she was too tall, and she didn't have the dainty petite-ness that might have excused the huge, non-fashionable glasses that she needed to see farther then an inch away from her face. The evening might not be a rousing success, but Lilith would count it as at least a moderate one.

"Excuse me, might I have this dance?" Lilith blinked, her mind taking a few seconds to translate that the guy was asking her. She smiled a little, shyly, before answering.

"Only if I get a name. I don't dance with nameless guys." The stranger laughed quietly, extending his hand.

"Ratchet. My name's Ratchet." Lilith allowed Rachet to lead her out onto the floor, faltering her way through the more classical dances until Ratchet tugged her off to a soft, candlelit corner to just talk. He was interesting, and the way he talked Lilith figured he was older then he looked. He coaxed stories out of her, even some of her hopes and ambitions, and in exchange, told her humorous tales about his friends. Lilith particularly enjoyed the one's about someone nicknamed Jazz. They talked about other things, discovering that they both secretly liked the almost mindless action/adventure sci-fi style moves, but preferred older, more classical films, listened to similar bands, and wondered when some of their friends were going to grow up. The evening was looking up.

"You're a nice guy, Ratchet. I think I could get to like you." He smiled at her, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I feel the same; I've never met anyone like you, Lilith." About then, a fight broke out. Ratchet slapped his forehead, sighing, and Lilith raised an eyebrow.

"Know 'em?"

"Frenzy, yes I do. He's… touchy. Kind of hyper and has a problem with stuttering." Lilith nodded.

"I can understand why he'd be touchy. I have problems with my hearing myself, I often get upset when people get annoyed because they think I'm ignoring them and I'm really not." They continued to chat, though Lilith watched with a small amount of concern and growing alarm as two obviously alpha males separated and went outside after a short, low conversation.

Trouble. Over the girl the first one had been dancing with and the second had been eyeing no doubt. Lilith waited, talking half distractedly to Ratchet as she did so. Neither of the guys came back, and the first one's girlfriend got nervous, going over to speak with another friend then both of them leaving. She turned her attention back to Ratchet, talking some more, until he suddenly got a shocked, horrified expression.

"Lilith, I'm sorry, but I've got to go." He stood making his way for the door and vanishing through it. Lilith hesitated for a few minutes, then, obeying that quiet little whisper from her soul that said not to let him disappear, followed.

She never would be sure what shocked her most of what she found. The squashed body of one of the local boys that she knew was a jerk, the dead robot, the dying one, or Ratchet's voice coming from one of the other robots in the vicinity. Life had taken a turn for the weird. Lilith ignored the part of her telling her to turn around, go back to the ball, and strode into the clearing. Interesting how a robot's face could register panic and 'how do I explain this?' as well as any humans.

"Lilith, you shouldn't be here. Go back…" Lilith cut him off.

"No. I don't think so Ratchet. You're gonna have some explaining to do when this is all over and I've had a chance to freak out that the nicest guy I've met in my short span of dating years is a giant robot, but I'm not about to leave someone in pain. And I can't get to things you can't without tools. I'm staying." Ratchet looked over at another, larger robot, clearly asking quietly for leader to intervene and get the girl to go home. Leader, surprisingly, didn't do so.

"She has a point, Ratchet. Let her help."

"Optimus… very well."

And so it began. Lilith ignored the fluids soaking into her dress as she clambered about, removing branches, sticks, rocks and other things that had gotten lodged in the wounded robot's body. She vaguely paid attention to the robot's name, Megatron, and did her best to tie off bleeding cables and other wounds under Ratchet's direction, sacrificing part of her dress skirt to do so. She continued to work, hoping that the little she could do as a small, tiny human could help this modern day giant, until at last all she could do was sit, unsure of whether Megatron still lived, and tell old fairy tales to him.

"Long ago, when magic still walked the land, an arrogant young prince lost his treasured golden ball. He followed it to a lake, guarded by a giant made of iron…" Lilith told the story as best she could remember, of the iron giant, and the prince who had had to give up so much to learn humility and win the heart of a princess by gaining the giant's help to save her kingdom. She didn't know if it helped, but it helped keep her calm. At last, she drifted off to sleep, hoping that this Megatron would still be alive when she woke up.

And that Ratchet wouldn't mind when she burned the bloody dress.

Fin

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